• Jungkook: Hey, I bought this cool shirt.
  • Jimin: Oh, *looks it over, smiles*, it is pretty cool.
  • Jungkook: Okay fine, keep it, damn! *throws the shirt back at Jimin.*
  • *later that day*
  • Yoongi: So did you give Jimin that shirt you bought him?
  • Jungkook: *scoffs* Obviously.
  • Yoongi: You threw it at him, didn't you.
  • Jungkook: *scoffs, while looking sad* Obviously.

i hate dreams.

i hate the ashen residue on hands when you rub your eyes in the morning because you didn’t know just when you fell prey to sleep.

i hate slumber filling you with visions of what once was and what could be, vivid enough that you can taste it, true enough that your wounds spill ichor,

straight into morning. 

in the visions there was anger. like spiked drinks, you finally said what you meant. no longer was i laughing louder than everyone at the bar but we were disputing through a screen,

through a wall.

even though i was right there, i couldn’t see you. couldn’t make out the slope of your nose of which i was so fond or the edge of your jaw. 

but i could feel you and you were all jagged edges. a mass of unforgiving, sharpened shards. the anger was good. even broken glasses can provide clarity.

it would help us heal.

i hate hope and ambition and zeal. i hate faith and dedication to the cause. i hate dreams that feel too goddamned real because i woke with these burning through my skin.

but reality is much different.

            ONLY THE DEAD SHALL SEE THE END OF WAR

The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting:

  • Little is known about the origins of one Lucrecia, not even her original last name. No record of her birth actually exists, nor are there any photos of her as a child. And little to nothing is known about her parents other than they were immigrants of France. She remembers very little of adolescence—only an instinct to survive that still lingers within her bones. Always striving for greatness, yet precariously intertwined with mischief. Most of her youth was spent on the streets, in the deep and dark corners of Paris because that is where the best company can be found. She’s always been drawn to nightlife and the excitement that flows throughout the city the moment the sun sets. 
  • Pick-pocketing for spare change to feed herself soon turned into petty theft once she met a gang of misfits to call her family. A few years on the streets left her quite skilled in the art of conning, but the moment a relentless and unforgiving winter hit the city, she felt trapped in a small cocoon of insecurities, worry and instability. But as soon as that horrid season passed, she emerged a beautiful incandescent butterfly, wings flapping effortlessly into the spring air. She shed the dirt and grime of the long winter along with her past self and found her beauty could easily replace her slender fingers and quick feet as a source of income. 
  • It wasn’t hard to leave behind that life, forgetting the names of her so-called family as quickly as she had learned them, but still mischief followed her wherever she went. Her first husband, a kind and gentle and rich man who turned ugly and volatile the moment liquor touched the tip of his tongue. The marriage had had all the appeal of a brand new life, and Lucrecia’s expectations had been at their highest, but only left her disappointed and bruised. It hadn’t taken her long to find a nice young man to seduce. A twenty-something kid with a desire to please any woman who gave him the slightest bit of affection, and in less than a month her husband had mysteriously dropped dead and his widow was nowhere to be found. 
  • She’d packed one bag, only the essentials (and her late husbands money, of course) and fled France just before war was declared, landing in Verona, Italy to make a new life. She was older, wiser, more experienced and it didn’t take her long to claw her way into the arms of another man, but he was the farthest from what she’d expected. A warmonger and a Rebel to say the least, with big dreams and even bigger ideals. He was the first man to treat her as his equal and to encourage her to embrace her gifts. In fact, he was the first man to treat her beauty as a gift instead of a prize for him to claim and for that she’ll be forever grateful. He showed her the ins and outs of the Spy Life and trained her to be the very best . (Someone give me this connection w/ lots of angst pls wink wonk.)

To know your enemy, you must become your enemy:

  • Eventually, she is given a mission to infiltrate the Germans by way of marriage to an officer, which is fairly easy because there’s no record of her in France or Italy. Arranged through Intel from her handlers, they meet. She makes him believe its love at first sight and it isn’t long until they’re married just after the start of the war. This leaves her around but closed off from the rebels for most of it, even though her husband was still stationed in Verona. But because of the obsession he’d developed for his wife, it was easy to pry out useful information. But being left along for too long left Lucrecia bored and with boredom came exploration. 
  • It wasn’t long until she began an illicit affair and while most would consider something so flippant and extramarital a mistake, for Lucrecia it was a blessing because when things got tough or too dangerous for her to handle on her own, Faron—a man she met by mere chance, but was wholly enamored with at first sight—was there to help and to hold. But all (good) things must come to an end. As soon as Italy’s allegiance swayed, so had her husband’s who had been growing suspicious of all her time away from home as of late. An affair? With a supposed Italian rebel, or worse a Russian? Surely, she would be tortured for her crimes against Axis, if not killed.
  • It was her fellow colleague and friend who would save her, who would make sure she got out unharmed and safely returned to Verona. Calina—a woman she respects more than anyone and would lay her life on the line forwas her savior in every sense of the word and she owes her life to the woman. 
  • She’s now been back in Verona for a few months and resumed her allegiance with the rebels, fighting daily for a cause she believes in. She’ll be damned if her beloved city falls.
  • I’ll probs add more to this as I plot with people and add more connections but this is the gist??
voltron character as stupid shit my friends and i have said
  • Lance: if i was a fruit i'd be a tomato becuase no body realizes that i'm there, in the fruit category
  • Hunk: let's bake cookies with carbonated milk and sell them to raise money for a chemistry field trip
  • Pidge: ah yes, if you take the molar mass of oxygen divided by the radius of the sun multiplied by avagadro's number, then add the square root of the earth's area and finally multiply it by 0 you would get the amount of fucks i give
  • Shiro: ah yes, whats on the agenda today? death? ah perfect
  • Keith: *teacher calls him obtuse as a joke* i know what that means,youre calling me fat
  • Allura: cut off your Fallopian tubes, BAM NO PERIODS!
  • Coran: why do kids get snack time and nap time, they dont even appreciate it. i say we should give the nap times to highschoolers and give the kids our workload instead.
  • Zarkon: hey help me create this huge epidemic that will wipe uot half the population so we can decrease our population bc its scary
  • Haggar: magic is real, just look at the kids who get straight A's

Overly strict parenting creates sneakier kids.
Punishing your kids for telling the truth creates better liars. Or people more afraid to tell the truth than to tell a lie.
Invading your children’s privacy creates lifelong crippling trust issues.
Over pressuring you child to succeed creates life long anxiety. And when failing those expectations destroys their self confidence.
Ignoring your children can create emotional dependency and abandonment issues.